


always had high hopes

by wearealltalesintheend



Series: Jason Todd Birhday Week 2018 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst and Humor, Batfamily Feels, F/M, Gen, No Man's Land, Prophecy, Sort Of, also, and the earthquake happened like, before even batman, he just wants to go home to his shitty apartment, jason is so done with this shit, think if Gotham never went back to normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: " “Bruce,” Tim says in a sleepy, drawn out whine, “Jason is being too loud!”There’s only a grunt in response from the man. Jason glares at the sky, too lazy to turn his head, “Bruce,” he mimics mockingly, “Tim is being a little bitch.”“Bruce,” Tim calls, “tell Jason just because he’s hearing voices that doesn’t mean we all have to stay up too.”“Bruce,” Jason huffs, “tell Tim no one is stopping him from going the fuck to sleep.”“Father,” this time it’s Damian that speaks, sounding annoyed, “tell these morons that some people would like to actually sleep.”“Bruce,” Tim and Jason speak together, in a strange show of unity that probably won’t happen again."or, alternatively, the one where Jason is trusted with stopping the apocalypse, a disembodied voice takes over his dreams for its nightly TED Talk, and Gotham is finally the ghost town it always aspired to be.day 5 of Jason Todd Birthday Week:Supernatural AU.





	always had high hopes

**Author's Note:**

> hey! This took me forever to write? Like, it was ridiculously hard? And I know the prompt was Supernatural, but I took some liberty with it, so it kinda ended up some weird mix of avatar and general post apocalpyse movies.
> 
> anyway, hope you guys enjoy it

_ “Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

*

 

“Get the fuck out,” is the first thing Jason says when he opens his door. “I swear to the gods, Timothy, if you’re hiding in my ceiling  _ again _ ,” is the second. But hey, it’s a valid concern, it happened before. Several times. “Those things are not meant for your weight and if you fall and break your damn neck, I’m not gonna be the one explaining it to Bruce. I’ll just move and leave your corpse for the racoons.”

 

He throws his keys in the dish by the door and his coat in the armchair, making his way to his kitchen. A dull  _ thud  _ comes from his living room. Jason rolls his eyes and pours himself some coffee.

 

“There are no racoons anymore, you know that,” Tim appears on the doorway. Amazingly, a headache appears on Jason’s head. “They all left after the ‘quake. Smart guys. Rats are the only scavengers left. And cats, to an extent. They’re getting pretty desperate, I guess.”

 

“Your way of completely missing the point is astounding.” Jason deadpans. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to carry on with my schedule.”

 

Tim snorts. “Oh sorry, am I interrupting your carefully planned hour of wallowing in self pity and denial?” Then, the little shit has the gal to steal his coffee.

 

“Is there a  _ point  _ for your oh-so-appreciated visit, brother dearest?” Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, “or are you here to give me the same old speech? Because I would much prefer if we could skip right to the part where I give you a big, fat  _ no _ and you fuck the fuck off.”

 

“Jason,” Tim starts, but electricity sparks from the tips of his fingers and he takes a minute to get himself together, “ _ Jason _ . The city is  _ crumbling. _ ”

 

“It was crumbling before either of us were born,” he shrugs, “it will still be crumbling after we die. It’s Gotham, it’ll always be crumbling in one way or another.”

 

He makes an angry noise. “That’s not what I meant!” The lights flicker. “It’s getting worse faster. At this rate-”

 

“Not my problem, don’t care.”

 

“How can you not-” Tim throws his hands up, “you know what, fine! But you can’t stay in denial forever, Jason.”

 

“ _ Watch me,  _ Replacement.”

 

Honestly, all Jason wanted was a quiet night in. The lights flicker again. On, off, on again. “Hey, watch it. I’ve just hooked up electricity back on last week.”

 

“Sorry,” his brother takes a deep breath, sighs, “how’s your headaches?”

 

Terrible. Jason can’t stand the light when they hit. He blacked out just this morning. “Fine. Practically gone.”

 

“You’re lying, I can tell. You’re not very good at it.” Tim adds, unrepentant, “see? That just goes to show you. It’s you, Jay. You’re gonna have to face it at some point.”

 

This time it’s Jason that feels his control slip for a second. The mug in his hand shakes under the heat. “Listen, Timbo. I don’t know what kinda delusion you people are under, but the reason this city is a shitshow isn’t some freaky prophecy. The fucking earthquake destroyed everything, okay? You want to blame something? Blame geology. It all went downhill after that.”

 

Tim stays silent, looking sadly at a stain on Jason’s old table. He sighs again, sounding bone tired. “Look around you, Jay. I got angry and your electricity fucked up.  _ You  _ got angry and your mug almost exploded. This is the world we live in.” He shrugs helplessly, “a prophecy is the least crazy thing right now.”

 

“I hate you,” Jason says, resting his head in his hands, “I hate you and Bruce and your freaky prophecies.”

 

“Face it, Hood.” Tim gets up, his chair scratching against the tiled floor, “everything is falling into place. You can feel it in the air. All it’s missing is  _ you _ .”

 

The headache is getting worse. Jason needs Tim gone before his vision starts going dark. If he blacks out now, the kid will want to drag him back to the Cave and then he’ll never be able to leave.

 

“I need to head back, I told Dick I would be back in an hour and you took forever to get here.” Thank the gods for small miracles. “Think about it, Jay. You know the way to the Cave.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just get lost.” Jason waves him off, “and try not to die while you’re at it. Dick would be insufferable.”

 

Tim flips him off, but leaves without further ado. Jason sighs in relief and rushes to turn all the lights off and dive under the covers.

 

_ “Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

Goddamn headaches.

 

*

 

_ “Fulfill the prophecy. _

 

_ Wake the heart. _

 

_ Find your destiny. _

 

_ Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

*

 

Jason wakes up in cold sweat. Sitting up in bed, he realizes the headache is gone, but the memory of the booming voice still clings to him, echoing in the back of his mind.

 

_ “Fulfill the prophecy” _

 

He groans. This is just great. He blindly picks up a pillow and covers his face with it. 

 

See if some spooky voice is going to rob him of any sleep. 

 

*

 

It happens again the next night.

 

*

 

And the next.

 

*

 

_ And the next. _

 

_ * _

 

Then, it starts bleeding slowly into his everyday life.

 

*

 

He’s making his way home, carefully avoiding loose debris and gang territories. It’s difficult, everywhere belongs to someone, these days.

 

Jason  _ could  _ move back to Batman’s territory. Or the Police’s. But, well, there are some bridges that should stay burned down for everyone’s sake. Even if his brothers seem insistent in rolling in the ashes.

 

As he walks briskly down the street, all his focus concentrated on his surroundings, Jason knows he’s alone for now.

 

Which is why, when a voice echoes all around him, bouncing off walls and coming from every direction, Jason almost has a heart attack and the ground around him bursts into red and yellow flames.

 

_ “Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

“Mother _ fucker. _ ” He whirls around wildly, trying to catch whoever just spoke while stomping down the fire before it gets out of hand. 

 

He can’t sense anyone nearby; everything is silent again.  _ Motherfucker. _

 

Jason curses one more time for good measure, then resumes his walk home.

 

*

 

The next time it happens, he’s making dinner.

 

Jason’s humming to some old song he’s heard on the radio this afternoon and cutting his carrots in small pieces. 

 

It’s a nice evening, he hasn’t seen any of the Bats today and that always puts him in a good mood.

 

Except, he’s halfway through the second carrot when a voice booms loud in his apartment.

 

_ “Fulfill the prophecy. Wake the heart. Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

His hands falter and the knife slips, almost cutting off one of his fingers. Jason feels frustration bubbling up inside him and a budding headache makes itself known at the back of his mind. He blames Tim for this. The voice hadn’t been there before his visit last week. All that talk must have fucked with his mind, he’s hearing things now!

 

He’s not proud to admit it’s only when the knife on his hand has melted and coated burnt carrots with steel that he realizes the lights on his apartment are also flickering wildly. 

 

*

 

Isabel is gorgeous and she kisses like it’s their last night on earth, and it might as well be, so Jason kisses back and presses her against the wall of his apartment, hands gripping her waist and sliding down her thighs. 

 

She tastes like whiskey and tequila, and Jason is still buzzing with vodka on his bloodstream. Everywhere skin touches skin feels on fire, and trust him, he  _ knows  _ fire. They stumble forward, tripping on his couch and falling on it, a tangle of limbs and kisses and giggles.

 

Her lips are leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck, and-

 

_ “Time is running out. Fulfill the prophecy. Wake the heart. Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, distracted, keeping up his new policy of ignoring the voice.

 

Isabel looks up, “what?” 

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Jason pulls her down for a kiss, “gods, you’re so beautiful.”

 

She moans into the kiss, her nails scratching his side. He flips them over, hands finding the hem of her shirt and hastily taking it off-

 

_ “Fate has spoken. The time has come. Fulfill the prophecy. Find your destiny.” _

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me”, Jason can feel the beginnings of a headache lurking between his eyes. Seriously?  _ Now? _

 

“Excuse me?” Isabel blinks, looking confused and a little offended. “I think I should go.”

 

“Wait, no, you’re fine, I wasn’t talking to you,” great, nice going. Then who were you talking to, genius?

 

She props herself up on her elbows, and Jason rolls over and off her with a groan. “I definitely should go.” Isabel says, already putting her shirt back on. She cards a hand through her hair, smoothes down her clothes. Jason offers a weak  _ call me _ , knowing she won’t. He watches her go from the couch.

 

To be fair, he doesn’t blame her. In this place, being cautious is what keeps you alive.

 

A strong wind slams the door closed and he resists the urge of screaming into a pillow. Instead, he glares up at his ceiling, “you’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?”

 

There’s no answer, because disembodied voices, apparently, go real silent when they’re not screwing you over.

 

*

 

The radio is on, as loud as it can be, some weird pop song has been playing on repeat for the last hour. It’s annoying and grating, but the only other frequency is reporting this week’s obituary, so really, this is the sanest option.

 

Or, it would be, if Jason could only get it loud enough to drown the voice that’s been haunting him.

 

_ “It’s time. Fulfill the prophecy. Find your destiny. It’s time. Fulfill the prophecy. Find your-” _

 

This has been going on since he woke up this morning, growing steadily louder to the point of screaming that it is now. Jason thinks he might be going insane, maybe the Pit has finally caught up to him. But whatever it is gets sent to the back burner, because a headache spikes suddenly, a piercing pain shooting through his brain and consuming his senses.

 

_ It’s gonna be one of those, uh _ . Jason blacks out quickly, sighing in relief as everything fades away.

 

*

 

_ This is a dream _ , Jason knows as soon as he opens his eyes.

 

It’s not hard to figure out, because, you know. Reality tends to be a bit more colorful than plain white stretching across every direction.

 

Suddenly, a voice.  _ The  _ voice. It says,  _ “time is running out. You must wake the heart.” _

 

“The fuck I do.” Jason crosses his arms, scowling, “the hell does that even mean, asshole.”

 

_ “The prophecy. It has been written. But you must hurry.” _

 

“That tells me literally nothing, thank you.” It’s unnerving talking with air, and Jason would very much like to know where he’s supposed to be glaring at. “I ain’t doing shit.  _ You _ wake up whatever you want.”

 

_ “Fate has spoken. Find the heart.”  _ The voice trails off for a second before speaking again,  _ “only then the Spring can bloom again.” _

 

“It’s Summer, thank you very much.” Jason deadpans, “listen, whoever the fuck you are, I don’t know how you got in my head, but you gotta get the fuck out. Or I swear to every fucking deity I’m blowing my brains out first thing when I wake up.”

Silence. Then,  _ “your time has not come yet, Healer. Death is not upon your doorstep.” _

 

“That means you’d be a goner too, right? If I die, you die too.” He grins, “guess what, motherfucker. Either you leave me the heck alone, or I’m biting the bullet.”

 

_ “Death is a greedy creature to set loose. It knows only mindless hunger. There is no stopping Her once She is here.” _

 

“Are you threatening my family?” Jason says slowly, voice turning into steel. “Because that’s not a good way to get me to do anything.”

 

_ “I intend no harm. But there’s no time left. You must wake the heart. Fulfill the prophecy, and it shall be over.” _

 

Jason pauses. This fucking prophecy business again. He hates it. He hated it from the moment Bruce sat him down in the Cave and showed him some bullshit old ass writings about it. He had shoved it in Jason’s face and told him with a straight face that  _ yes, this is it, this is definitely about Jason, do you see anyone else coming back from the dead, here?  _

 

Every day after Jason has made sure to be a giant ass fuck you to that. Differences in ideology aside, this prophecy bullshit has more than added fuel to the fire on their fights. But if playing along means no more head-splitting headaches or intrusive voices driving him up the wall, then, well. “If I do it. Will it stop? The headaches, you saying ominous shit in my mind, the dreams, everything?”

 

_ “Yes, once the prophecy is fulfilled, I will no longer exist on this plane.” _

 

“Who even are you, jerkface?” 

 

_ “Find your destiny, Jason Todd. Wake the heart. Fulfill the prophecy.” _

 

*

 

Jason wakes up with a start, falling off the couch.

 

The voice is gone, no trace of his headache.

 

With a long suffering sigh, he drags himself to his bedroom and begins to pack. It’s a long walk to the Cave.

 

*

 

The worst part is how easy it is to find the way back. Muscle memory takes over, and soon enough Jason doesn’t even have to think before choosing a path, his feet never hesitating in the maze of caves under Wayne Manor.

 

It’s even more annoying how no one bats an eye when he drops his backpack on the table and stands in the middle of the room. Bruce keeps on typing on his computer, Dick keeps on splashing around on the lake, Tim and Stephanie pay him no mind in their sparring, Damian and Cass carry on brushing Titus. “Well?” Jason says, gesturing himself. 

 

“That table has a wobbly leg, careful with that bag.” Bruce grunts without looking up from the screen. “Your room upstairs is perfectly capable of storing it.”

 

“Hey, Jay, you should come swim with me!” Dick waves him over, sending water flying around him, “Dami warmed the water earlier!”

 

“ _ Dick!”  _ Tim cries, flinching away from the splashing zone, “I’m trying not to kill Steph here!”

 

“Pshh, as if, Birdboy,” The blonde laughs, sending the water back to the lake with a wave of her hand, “more like, trying not to get your ass kicked.”

 

Damian looks up, glaring, but Cass shushes him and offers Jason a thumbs up. Titus barks once, tail wagging happily. 

 

“What the hell,” Jason blinks, trying to wrap his head around the cacophony of noises around him. He’s so busy staring at the scene, he startles when a familiar voice speaks from his left.

 

“Welcome back, Master Jason.” Alfred rests a gloved hand on his shoulder.

 

Jason Todd comes home, and the world keeps spinning.

 

*

 

Tim catches up to him before Jason reaches his old room. The kid has a smug grin on his face that immediately makes Jason want to punch it out of him. “Not a word.”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “I’d never say  _ I told you so.” _

 

The urge to push his brother down the stairs or burn his eyebrows off is incredibly overwhelming. “Fuck off. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since this shit started. Goddamn voice in my head won’t leave me alone.”

 

“It’s that bad?” Tim grimaces, sounding apologetic, “we’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

 

Jason shrugs, “not worried. Just want this to be over. Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

 

His brother grins. “What, the guy that came back from the dead doesn’t believe in prophecies?”

 

“I hate you. I don’t think I can emphasize how much I hate you, Timothy.” Jason rolls his eyes. They’re in front of his room, it looks exactly the same from before. Something both warm and painful curls around his bones. He didn’t think he’d be back here.

 

Tim elbows his side, “hey, you’re spacing out, dude. Get some rest, Bruce will want to leave as soon as possible.”

 

The kid disappears down the hallway and Jason is left alone with his thoughts. He’s right, Bruce won’t want to waste time. There’ll probably be some big argument over dinner, where everyone will have an opinion and loudly announce it for the whole table. In the end, Jason figures nothing will get decided on until the last minute.

 

This is just  _ that  _ kind of week.

 

*

 

_ “Hurry, Jason Todd. There is not much time left.” _

 

“Can’t you let me live for a while here?” Jason scowls. He should’ve known napping would mean being back at the White Room. “I still haven’t forgiven you for Isabel.”

 

_ “Time is running out. You must wake the heart.” _

 

Jason sighs, “yeah, yeah, I got it. Fulfill the prophecy. But destiny is going to have to wait, ‘cause I have zero control over water and electricity kinda depends on my mood.”

 

_ “Control over the elements will be demanded by the journey, yes, but that is not what the prophecy requires of you.” _

 

“What, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” He feels very closed of getting a headache. “Because I got zilch from that.”

 

_ “To wake the heart from its slumber, that is your destiny, child.” _

 

“Great, the disembodied voice is patronizing me now.” Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, can’t you give me a direct answer for once? Please? Because fancy talk isn’t getting you anywhere.”

 

_ “The prophecy. The sacred texts shall quell your doubts.” _

 

“Awesome. Just awesome.” He rolls his eyes, “are you going to tell me who you are yet?”

 

_ “All in due time, child.” _

 

The walls begin closing in on him, and Jason wakes up.

 

*

 

_ Only the Healer by Life twice touched shall hear the weeping before Death succumbs to its hunger. A song from the deepest of slumbers, to awaken the heart comes calling.” _

 

_ * _

 

“Well, the texts are clear on the signs,” Barbara’s voice sounds distorted through the computer. She’s still on the Watchtower, standing her ground as gangs upon gangs try to take over. They have yet to realize that neighbourhood is not slipping through Oracle’s hands. “All the small earthquakes, the floods, even the rise on violence. It’s predicted it all.”

 

“Okay, supposing that’s true and not just a byproduct of an already fucked up world,” Jason begins, “what are we supposed to do?”

 

“It’s not as much of a  _ we  _ but more like what can  _ you  _ do, Hood.” She takes off her glasses, cleaning it on her shirt, “look, according to the folks of old, if the Healer doesn’t wake up the heart, it all goes to shit. I’m talking end-of-the-world levels. And to be honest, that being true is our best shot at surviving.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Didn’t Bruce tell you?” Babs says, pity coloring her face, “the seismic monitors have being going crazy the past couple of weeks. The foreshocks are the cause for all those building collapses. The city is falling apart already, but the main rip haven’t passed yet.”

 

“It’s gonna be a bad one, isn’t it?” He asks, even if he already knows the answer, “like, really bad?”

 

“Worse,” she shakes her head, “this is gonna be worse than the Original ‘Quake. It’s gonna be the end of Gotham.”

 

Shit. “ _ Shit. _ ” Jason curls his hands in fists on his lap before he can accidentally melt anything, “shit, Babs. That’s just.” He makes a helpless noise.

 

“I know, Jay.” Barbara says, her image flickering for a second, “this prophecy, it’s our only hope. If it turns out to be bullshit…” she trails off, screen going static before the feed comes back online, “we have to believe it’s true, because otherwise we’re doomed.”

 

_ “Do you believe me now, child?”  _ The voice whispers with the wind, and Jason shakes his head, trying to ignore the shiver going down his spine. “This is so fucked up. How long do we have?”

 

“Honestly? I don’t know. It could be days, it could be hours. There’s no way to be sure.” Her voice turns into steel again, “you have to hurry, Jason. The texts say you need to be able to control all Elements to survive the journey, and I know for a fact you’re shit with Water.”

 

_ “To awaken the heart is what is asked of you, Healer.” _ The whisper comes from his left, but Jason doesn’t turn, instead chooses to mull over the words.  _ “You must carry the Elements in your blood, but only the awakening is your destiny.” _

 

An idea begins forming on his mind, and he grins, “say, Babs, does it say anywhere that I gotta do this alone?”

 

The ginger frowns, fingers flying over her keyboard, “no, not really. But it says you have to have them all.”

 

“But hypothetically speaking someone else could be doing the whole controlling thing, right?”

 

Understanding dawns on her and she smiles, “why, yes, Hood, I’d say so.”

 

“Well, would you look at that,” he says, reclining on his chair, “seems this just turned into a family event.”

 

*

 

Bruce isn’t  _ happy  _ about it, but he’s not too heartbroken over it. He doesn’t like the idea of putting the others at risk, but Jason has a feeling he had always intended to come along anyway, and besides, unless they can fix this before the Earthquake,  _ no one  _ will be safe.

 

They leave the girls to look after the city, Black Bat and Batgirl are responsible for keeping the neighbourhoods safe, and with Oracle watching over them, Jason has no doubt they’ll be fine.

 

Dinner is a quiet affair, and everyone turns in early. There’s too much on their minds and tomorrow is a heavy weight on their shoulders. 

 

*

 

_ “It is close now,”  _ the voice says softly,  _ “the end is almost upon us.” _

 

“How long do we have?” Jason asks, because it’s pointless to pretend the stakes hasn’t risen now. “Can we still make it?”

 

_ “Yes, you must hurry, but hope is not lost.”  _ It almost sounds comforting.  _ “Your soul knows the way, it shall guide you to me.” _

 

“And we’re back to the vague shit,” he rubs his eyes, feeling pressure building up behind his eyes, “a hint. That’s all I’m asking here. What’s the point of you haunting me if you won’t help me out?”

 

_ “I am forbid of interfering with the course of life, thus are the Rules of Creation.”  _ The voice says, melancholy woven in the vowels,  _ “this is your journey, Jason Todd. Listen closely, you will hear my singing.” _

 

Jason sighs, “fine. I’ll find you on my own.” He yawns, “say, I can’t convince you to actually let me get some sleep this time, can I?”

 

A clear sound, almost like rustling leaves in the wind, fills the room. It’s laughing, Jason realizes.  _ “Rest, child. You will need your strength for the journey ahead.” _

 

“Thanks, buddy.” He snorts, shaking his head, “do I get a name now?”

 

_ “Haven’t you guessed yet, Healer?” _

 

Jason doesn’t have time to answer, or even to think about it, because the White Room is quickly fading into darkness and he’s drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

 

*

 

They stand just outside the Cave, all eyes turned to Jason, and all this attention is making him nervous. “What? I have no idea where to go either.”

 

Tim snorts. “Dude. It’s your prophecy, you lead the way.”

 

“It’s not  _ my  _ prophecy,” Jason says, feeling weirdly like he has to defend himself, “it’s  _ a  _ prophecy.”

 

“About  _ you. _ ”

 

“Not about  _ me.  _ It’s so vague, we can’t even be sure about what it is. In fact--”

 

“Are you two morons going to argue all day,” Damian cuts in, “or help us figure this out?”

 

“Dami, play nice.” Dick warns without looking up, nose buried in the map he’s showing Bruce, “Tim, stop antagonizing your brother.”

 

Damian huffs, crossing his arms, and Tim rolls his eyes, but both of them go over to help stare at the map. Because that’s a helpful thing to do that is most definitely going to solve their problems. Jason pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

They are going to die.

 

The thought comes unprompted and dispassionate. An observation of a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, they are gonna die. Because there’s this terrible thing looming in the future, and they’re supposed to stop it, but if they can’t figure out something as simple as where to go,  _ boy, oh boy,  _ are they screwed. 

 

A bird lands in a tree by his head, immediately starting to sing loudly. It chirps frantically, a melodic sound that grates at his nerves, effectively derailing his thoughts and demanding attention. Jason wants to shoot it out of the tree, but he doesn’t think setting things on fire would go well with the whole unspoken truce they got going, so instead he turns to scare it away, and the bird. 

 

It’s. 

 

It’s a motherfucking  _ robin _ .

 

Jason’s having a stroke, he’s so mad, he’s gonna yell so much the next time he’s back in the White Room. No, honestly, he just  _ knows  _ this is some prophecy bullshit, and oh my god, really? He glances at the bird again. It cocks its head annoyed and chirps a high note. Jason has the weird feeling he just got told off. “Fuck you very much too,” he adds, just to be sure. “Now shoo, go away.”

 

The robin flaps its tiny wings like a little kid stomping their foot. 

 

“Hey! You take that back, asshole!” 

 

It chirps indignantly, changing branches and showering Jason’s head with leaves and twigs.

 

He curses, “oi! Quit it! The fuck do you even want?”

 

An angry chirp and a flap of wings.

 

“You want us to follow you? Excuse me, this ain’t a Disney movie, I’m not following you anywhere.”

 

“Hm, Jason?”

 

It’s Dick that asks. He has a confused frown on his face, and oh, right, yes, Jason’s been arguing with a bird for the past five minutes. He tamps down the urge to tell them it started it. Gods, at this rate, by the end of it Jason will be locked down in a mental facility. 

 

Everyone is once again staring at him as if he grew a second head. On the tree, the bird sings mockingly, not even trying to disguise its glee. What a tool.

 

“Oh my god, is that a robin?” Tim coos, “I thought they didn’t make nests here anymore!”

 

“They don’t. This cannot be a coincidence.” Bruce says, gravely and somber. He regards the bird like it might hold the secrets of the universe. “You were talking to it, Jason. Can you understand it?”

 

Honestly, only Bruce can be this blasé about talking animals. Jason would roll his eyes if he wasn’t so busy being the opposite of blasé right now. “Yes? I mean, it doesn’t  _ talk,  _ but I can sort of get what it wants to say–  _ what? _ What now, jerk? You want what now? Jeez, fine, okay, whatever,– he says he resents being called an it.”

 

“I apologize,” Bruce, the actual grown up, the goddamn Batman, says to the bird. Then, turning to Jason, “I believe this has to do with the prophecy. What did he say to you?”

 

“Nothing much? Mostly, he insulted me.”

 

“I think he wants you to follow him.” Dick grins, “like in the old movies and all.”

 

“This is idiotic.” Damian is eyeing the bird, interested. Kid looks like he wants to try and pet it, only he knows that might get him pecked in the eyeball. There’s something heartbreaking in his pout. “But I say we follow him. Far stranger things have happened here.”

 

“What? No. I’m not following the world’s angriest bird, he called me a bitch!”

 

“You’ll survive,” Tim shrugs, “we all called you worse things at some point. Granted, sometimes you weren’t there to hear it, but still.  _ Way _ worse.”

 

“Fuck off, Replacement-”

 

“Hey, now, Jay. Let’s not-”

 

“You stay out this, Dickhead-”

 

“Yeah, Dick. Stop hovering so much-”

 

“What, suddenly you’re a united front now?”

 

“This is very entertaining, perhaps this mission will not be a complete waste of my time.”

 

“Damian, I swear to all the gods,-”

 

The bird chirps loudly.

 

“ _ Enough.”  _ Bruce’s voice is like thunder, shutting them all up. “Jason. What did he say?”

 

He sighs defeated, “the stupid bird wants us to follow him.”

 

“Then we follow him.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and they all know better than to try and dispute it. 

 

“Come on, Jay. It’s a  _ Robin. _ ” Dick tries to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look at him, he’s angry just like you.”

 

“I hate everything about this.”

 

From above him, the bird sings with a terribly smug expression. Jason hopes he gets stuck like that.

 

*

 

They walk for an entire day, the small robin flying ahead, sometimes disappearing in the ruined buildings for hours before coming back. He sings a melancholic melody, almost sad, but not quite. There’s hope in the undertones. 

 

It clashes with the abandoned look of the city, all the condemned houses and crumbling skyscrapers litter the street line, giving Gotham the ghost town aesthetic it always aspired to be. Sometimes Jason thinks he sees things on the corner of his eye. Neon signs shedding colorful light when they should be long muted. Stores that he remembers being there, except nothing’s ever opened to business since the Earthquake. It’s little things building up on the periphery of his vision and Jason has no idea what to do with them.

 

The Original ‘Quake destroyed everything so long ago, he doesn’t think Bruce even remembers what it was like before. All the lot of them have ever known is this No Man’s Land, where violence grows like cancer in every street corner. Jason’s never seen what Gotham looked like before it all went to shit. Sure, he’s seen some pictures up in Wayne Manor, but they don’t make it justice, he thinks. Because as destroyed as it undoubtedly is, the basic structure of everything is still resisting. Pillars, windows, wooden frames, church bells. There’s still pieces of what it used to be, and Jason can almost see it, the tall buildings casting long shadows, the tunnels covering all the city underground, the bells of St. Peter Cathedral ringing loud and clear. He loves them, loves his city, for all that it is, and all that it could be again. 

 

If those odd visions he keeps getting along the way are any indication of what the future might look like, well, he doesn’t mind them so much.

 

It becomes clear soon enough that they’re headed for the Old Gotham, the first neighbourhoods built when the founders first settled here. It’s a part of town Jason’s never been to, mostly because it’s been flooded centuries ago, and no one is really sure if there’s any dry land past the lake. Legend has it the entire place is still down there, forgotten and frozen in the 1800s, a patch of urban life untouched since the Flood.

 

And hey, usually, Jason is all about exploring. He loves wandering around, mapping all the territories and the changes being made all around. But there’s a reason Old Town is just a myth. No one knows shit about it because no one could find a way past the sunken ruins, the bricks and stones and buildings work like a wall under the old lake. It’s the Iron Curtain down there.

 

But the bird is insistent in his own impatient way. He pecks at their head and ignores their shared looks. If he thinks they’re taking too long, he flies over their head singing loud high-pitched notes until they comply.

 

The little jerk is persistent, Jason has to give him that.

 

“Whatcha thinkin’?” Dick suddenly says, startling him out of his thoughts. Jason hasn’t noticed him falling behind of the group and in line with him, but he’s surprised to find that he doesn’t really mind his brother’s presence.  _ For now. _

 

“That grilled bird would make a damn nice dinner.” He shrugs, “although, the little shit looks so skinny, I doubt he’d have any meat.”

 

“You might have a point. Besides, Dami wouldn’t let you, he has a soft spot for animals.” Dick looks him over, frowning, “how’s the headaches?”

 

“Haven’t gotten one since I caved in,” Jason answers truthfully, “but sleeping isn’t helping much.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Fate or whatever decides to run PSAs during the time,” he yawns, “talks my ear off and says absolutely nothing. No, to be fair, I can get about 3% of what the voice says.”

 

Dick isn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes are firmly cast downwards, shoulders slouching, and Jason knows this look. It’s Dick’s  _ I feel overwhelmingly guilty about this thing I have no control over whatsoever _ look. Jason can hear the apology coming before the words are even properly out of his mouth. “Jay,  _ I’m so sorry. _ ”

  
  


“What the fuck for, you blobfish?” Jason shakes his head, “you didn’t write the prophecy. You didn’t force me to do this. You didn’t cause the goddamn ‘quake.”

 

“Still. I am sorry,” Dick says quietly, “I’m sorry you’re going through it. I know you didn’t want any of this.”

 

Jason wishes he still had his helmet on, resists the urge to dig it out of his backpack. “Listen, we are all in shitty positions here. But it’s whatever. The sooner we do this, the sooner it all goes away. The Disembodied Voice in My Head told me so.”

 

“There is so much to unpack there,” Dick snorts, and his voice sounds a little less strained, a little more relaxed. Jason counts it as a win. “I don’t even know where to begin– ”

 

“Grayson!” Damian appears out of absolutely nowhere, making them both jump, “Father said we are spending the night in that building.” He points to a crumbling-yet-less-than-its-surroundings house half a block ahead. “He and Drake are scouting the perimeter, you two are supposed to set up camp.”

 

“What about you, Brat?” Jason asks, already dreading the response.

 

“I am in charge of you!”

 

Translation: Bruce doesn’t know what to do with the Demon Kid, so they are on babysitting duty. Awesome.

 

“Well,” Dick claps his hands with a cheery smile, “then whatever should we do, boss?”

 

The kid blinks, clearly not getting the reaction he was expecting, “I– we should. Start a fire, we should start the fire for dinner.”

 

“Great idea, but that’s with you and Jason, so I’m just gonna go ahead and set the sleeping bags, ‘kay?”

 

“That is acceptable.” Damian nods. “The robin is already sleeping inside, so be careful not to startle him.”

 

Jason rolls his eyes, “we should just bail while he’s down. The fucker is taking us to Old Town, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, and we’re really close now,” Dick grimaces, “all that water, I can feel it.”

 

“Then there is no time to waste,” Damian says, marching off, “we should hurry, it is getting dark.”

 

He’s right, the streets are dangerous at night and being so far out here is even worse. They need to figure out the sleeping shifts soon and try to get some rest. If they’re right, getting past the wall of ruins underneath the lake is going to take a lot of work. Jason would say he can’t wait to hit the pillows, but, well.

 

*

 

_ “The first trial will find you soon.” _

 

“Awesome. You’re back.” Jason rolls his eyes. He’s been walking all day, he’s tired, and this place has no chair. Or floor, to be honest. Could he just sit down? Or is he like, floating? It’s hard to tell here. “Can you give me a hint? Anything?”

 

_ “It is not my place.”  _ A pause.  _ “But you can sit down, child.” _

 

“Hey! You stay out of my head!” He glares at a point in the distance, “boundaries, man! Boundaries!”

 

_ “We are in your mind. This is a projection of your subconscious. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I shall refrain from addressing your thoughts.” _

 

“Thanks, it’s better than nothing, I guess.” Jason shudders, “anyway. Trial?”

 

_ “Indeed. Your journey will not be devoid of obstacles. Many of them will require affinity with the Elements for you to succeed.” _

 

“Of course they are. What else would I expect.” He sighs, “this has to do with Old Gotham, doesn’t it?”

 

_ “There is no Old or New Gotham, child. There is only me.” _

 

“One day,  _ one day _ , you will say something, and it’s gonna be straightforward and to the point and I’ll just understand what you mean without decoding it first. I believe in you buddy.”

 

_ “Sleep, child. And remember, it has all been written in stone.” _

 

The White Room fades, and Jason feels the familiar, cold darkness enveloping him.

 

*

 

The Old Lake was created by the Flood a century ago. Since then, it’s served as another barrier between Old and New Gotham. Nothing alive lives there. No fishes, no frogs, no algae,  _ nothing _ . They say the people at GU tried everything, but no one could quite figure out why. Jason guesses people like the mystery of it all, he doubts the studies were ever really in depth. In a world with pyrokinesis, chalking it  up to magic doesn’t sound too crazy.

 

Now, standing at the edge of the Lake, Jason kind of understands. There’s something disturbing about this place, though he can’t quite say why. The water is so still, and so inexplicably clear, you can see the gravel and concrete at the bottom in detail, and it’s surreal. His reflection overlaps with a street sign, glinting in the sun. Jason wonders how deep it truly is. He wonders how many drowned in here.

 

Their guide is flying overhead in circles. X marks the spot, he supposes.

 

“I think we need to go through the water.” Dick sounds neutral. Not happy, not sad. He takes a step closer, feet almost touching the waterline. “It makes sense, I suppose. Old Town makes sense.”

 

“No offense,” Tim says, clearly meaning full offense, “but me and water isn’t exactly a good match. Besides, there’s no way through. Everyone knows that.”

 

“There must be a way,” Bruce kneels, fingers wading through the water. It sends ripples all around the Lake, and they stop, watching in silence until it fades away. “This water has to come from somewhere.”

 

“I don’t like it,” Damian confesses quietly, shying away from the edge, “this place is unnatural.”

 

Suddenly, it clicks in Jason’s mind. “It reeks of Death.” Fire people, the pyrokinetic, are more sensitive to Life. It used to help when there were firefighters looking for survivors, or cops looking for missing folks. Now, Jason doubts a lot of people remember this trait. But here, in the Old Lake, he has never been more sure of anything in any of his lives. “This place belongs to the dead. You feel that too, right?”

 

Damian nods, somber and for once, doesn’t add anything.

 

“Awesome. Because this wasn’t creepy enough before,” Tim stumbles back, tugging at Bruce’s arm until the man steps back as well, “I’m not getting in the haunted water.”

 

“I’m with Replacement, here.” Jason shakes his head, “it’s too risky. We’ll find another way.”

 

Bruce tilts his head, a hand going to his ear. He nods once, saying a brisk  _ thank you. _ “No. There’s no time. Oracle says the foreshocks are getting worse by the hour. Looking for a new entrance would take days we don’t have to spare.”

 

“B’s right.” Dick has that look on his eyes that says he’s going to be a stubborn idiot about this, “I’m going in. I can look for a way past the debris, follow the currents. Then I’ll come and get you.”

 

Jason wants to say  _ fuck no _ , because what part of  _ it’s too risky _ the moron didn’t understand? But there’s this whole doomsday thing looming over their heads and an entire day has already gone by. He hates to say it, but Bruce is right. They don’t have that kind of time. So instead, before Damian finishes winding up to his undoubtedly outraged speech, he says, “not alone, you’re not. I’m coming with you.”

 

Dick makes a face. “Jason, you’re terrible with water.”

 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say  _ terrible _ . I’ll manage.”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you under the impression I was asking?”

 

“Jason. Come on, don’t be difficult.”

 

“Dick,” Bruce interrupts, “your brother is right. I don’t like the idea of you going at all, but if you must, then I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”

 

There’s a minute of tense silente, where everyone just sort of stared at each other, before Dick lets out a sigh, his entire body deflating. “Fine. But stay close, and for the love of all that is holy, don’t try and blow anything up.”

 

“When have I ever tried to blow anything in my life?”

 

“You blew up Titus old doghouse, Todd.” Damian raises one eyebrow, apparently feeling less anxious about the whole thing.

 

“And there was the time with the old Walmart.” Tim adds, nodding along.

 

“Just. Be careful, both of you.” Bruce pins them with a look, “no unnecessary risks, no reckless behaviour.”

 

“Yessir.” Jason salutes, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. He toes off his boots, placing them beside his backpack and jacket. Patting himself down, he gives up his knives and guns and anything that could weight him down. By the end of his search, only a switchblade made the cut.Turning to Dick, he finds his brother already waiting by the edge of the water, “ready?”

 

A nod. “Let’s go.”

 

*

 

The water is cold against his skin, and Jason panics for a second. His vision fills with sickly green and he chokes. He feels his heart hammering on his chest and he can’t get to the surface soon enough, his arms and legs feel numb and heavy, and–

 

A hand is gripping his shoulder, shaking him out of his nightmare. Dick looks at him, frowning with concern, but now Jason is back in control of his body. Everything is clear once more, all in shades of blue and gray. He exhales, the bubbles float slowly up. This is fine.

 

He gestures the deep end with his head. No time to lose.

 

They swim past half destroyed houses and crumbling stores. But what really catches the eye is the amount of bones littering the bottom. Scattered skeletons sprawled all over across the Lake. Jason tries not to think about how or why they are there; if standing near the edge had been disturbing, swimming through the water is making his skin crawl.

 

Soon enough the wall of debris is visible ahead. It looks like the Flood must have dragged everything in its wake, until it lost momentum here, effectively blocking the path. Dick tugs at his sleeve. He points at something at their left and takes off. 

 

Jason follows.

 

If he pays attention, if he really concentrates, he thinks he can feel what his brother picked up on. There’s the faintest movement in the water, a barely-there current. Jason grins. They just might make it out of this alive.

 

They follow against the current, looking for its starting point, praying it’s big enough for someone to swim through. Dick is a few feet ahead, moving and breathing with ease. He makes it look so easy, but Jason has to dedicate most of his focus on calming himself and reminding his body that it can, in fact, keep breathing. But hey, Dick makes everything look easy until you’re killing yourself to keep up.

 

Still wrapped up on his thoughts, Jason almost slams into his brother.  _ What the fuck _ , he tries to convey with wild gesturing. Dick shrugs sheepishly. He lost the trail.  _ What now _ , Jason glares pointedly. Dick points at him, finger poking his chest. Jason bats at it, shaking his head firmly. If Dick can’t find it, then there’s no way he can do it. Jason’s shit with Water, it’s true. Fire has been his Element since birth, it’s the one he’s most comfortable with, the others came after the Pit, and there’s always a feeling of  _ wrongness  _ whenever he tried to control any of them. But Water really takes the cake. So, yeah. Hell no he’s gonna be trying to control it right in the middle of Lake of death here.

 

Dick shakes him by the shoulder, and Jason sputters, sending tiny bubbles floating up again. His brother pokes him in the chest one more time, looking pointedly at the surface. Right. Their only chance and all that. Jason rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, ignoring Dick’s puppy pleading eyes. Goddamn manipulative bastard. Regardless, Jason takes a deep breath, concentrating.

 

Once, back when he had just gotten out of the Pit, and Talia was still helping him. Help is kind of a strong word, but that’s not the point. So, back then. She had sent him to train with Masters of each of the Elements.  _ Learn from the best _ , she had said. But he had always had trouble with Water, probably because Fire will always be ingrained in his core, recoiling at its polar opposite. So, she had sat him down in a shitty hotel pool in Spain, and taught him herself. Talia told him to feel the Water, let his senses extend as far as the waves go, let it flow through him.

 

So now, Jason does that. He closes his eyes and exhales, letting his body float and hoping this goes better than that night in Spain. At first, all he feels is the cold liquid against his skin, the weightless feeling of being underwater. Then, slowly, Jason becomes aware of everything around him. The stones piled into a wall beside them. The wind blowing shallow waves up in the surface. Dick swimming nervously around him. And finally, the faint current. It’s just a tiny shift on the water, a subtle change of temperature, but Jason grasps at it, and scrambles to swim along it without bothering to check if Dick’s following.

 

_ Thank you, Talia.  _ Is he allowed to say he misses her a little? Or would Bruce get a stroke?

 

It gets stronger as he goes, so they must be getting closer to the source. And soon, it becomes clear why no one found it before. The current leads them over fallen pillars and under half collapsed bridges, past buildings and houses and rock formations. It’s a dangerous maze, and Jason suddenly understands why there’s so many bones down there. 

 

And then. Finally.  _ Finally.  _ There, at the bottom of a hill, a skyscraper fell over a Waffle House, crushing it and effectively creating a tunnel uphill from where the water is oozing through. Jason looks back, grinning, and swims faster.

 

The makeshift tunnel doesn’t look very stable, but it can certainly hold a little longer, all they have to do is be careful not to touch anything. It leads them back to the streets of Old Town, but the water is beginning to dwindle. Just a few blocks up and they can see dry land. 

 

Dick sidles up to him, beaming. 

 

_ Jackpot. _

 

*

 

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Jason says, “there’s a way through. It goes right to the other side.”

 

“But?” Bruce asks, sounding wary.

 

“But it’s a 10-15 minutes swim. And that’s pushing already.”

 

“I’m not going into the water,” Tim takes a step back, hands raised in front of him in a defensive motion and a panicky look on his face, “there has got to be another way, I’m not going in there, you can’t make me.”

 

“Tim,” Bruce steps forward, gripping his shoulder, “I understand you’re…  _ reluctant  _ about this. But there’s no time for discussions. It will be fine.  _ You _ will be fine.”

 

The kid shakes him off with erratic movements. “No, no, no. This is like, the opposite of fine. Like, if there was a scale with fine on one end, then this would be at the other. That’s just how  _ not fine  _ this is.”

 

Jolts of electricity fly off Tim, and Damian flinches away, scowling. The step back brings him suddenly closer to the water, and his face contorts in alarm as he tries to get as far as possible without someone calling him out on it. Jason almost snorts at that, but his attention is rather tied to the scene unfolding in front of them.

 

He can feel Dick preparing to intervene beside him, his overprotective tendencies going in overdrive, so Jason grabs his arm, yanking him back. “Really? The kid is freaking out and you wanna add more water to the shitshow?” His brother looks conflicted, but settles to fidgeting in the middle of the Lake with him.

 

Bruce and Tim are talking in low tones Jason can’t hear, but whatever it is, it seems to be causing the panicked look on the kid’s eyes to be slowly replaced by a resigned wariness.  _ Uh, that’s new. _

 

Up in the sky, the robin sings a low, urgent song, flying in circles and casting shadows as he goes. Jason looks up, squinting at the sun. It must be nearing noon. “So, are we taking this show on the road, or what?”

 

Dick hits him in the back of the head.

 

*

 

In the end, they decide to split in two groups, to conserve oxygen. Dick and Damian would go with Bruce, while Tim is stuck with Jason. 

 

Dick and Bruce manage to stabilize a bubble big enough for them to step inside, but Jason doesn’t even need to try to know that shit is gonna get him fucking exhausted. Except, when Bruce implies Jason might not be able to do it, so he should, you know, wait for them to come get him, Jason tells him to  _ go fuck himself _ , _ of course he can, what kinda weakling does he think Jason is? _ So yeah, here’s to hoping the power of spite and pettiness are enough to get them across the Lake.

 

Tim is definitely not the right person to go with Jason on this.

 

Creating the bubble is tricky. It relies heavily on his control of the Water around it and his ability to ease the air pressure so it doesn’t burst. Jason absolutely hates it. He hopes whoever wrote this goddamn prophecy is rotting in Hell right now. If they die here, he’s gonna track the fucker down in the Afterlife and punch them in the face with a flaming boulder.

 

Bruce’s group goes first, disappearing underwater quickly, with Damian curled up on his cape and a horrified look on his face. Jason can relate, honestly. He looks at Tim, standing beside him at the water’s edge. “Hey, time to go. Hop in, kid.” Tim glances dubiously at him, but carefully steps inside the bubble, as if it could burst if he made any sudden movement or put too much weight on one foot. To be fair, it might. Jason follows him, closing the bubble behind him. They’re trapped inside now. He gives the kid a nod and what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “relax, Timbo. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“Oh my god, why would you say that?” Tim recoils in horror, “now we are  _ definitely  _ going to die.”

 

Jason laughs, “come on, I bet we can beat ‘em there.”

 

Tim makes a pitiful noise, and begins checking and rechecking his uniform and gloves. 

 

*

 

It’s as exhausting as he thought it would be, and if Tim wasn’t there nervously nagging at him, Jason would’ve just given up on the whole thing and accepted the sweet release of death. They didn’t pass Bruce and Dick, but really, fuck them. Jason’s out here doing a two person job and nailing it. That’s like, way more than they could do.

 

Is he ready to pass out at any second now?Yes. But is he still moving them towards dry land? Also yes. 

 

His vision is beginning to blur at the edges, and that’s usually not a good sign, but Jason chooses to ignore it for now. The tunnel is almost over, there will be a whole lot of time for blurred vision when Tim isn’t one nervous breakdown away from electrocuting them all to death.

 

“Jay, look, I think Dick and B already landed.” The kid points at a vague point in the distance, “is that a mannequin floating over there? Oh shit, it is! And it’s wearing a Victorian dress! Steph would so want to see this.”

 

She would, Jason supposes. They are all weird like that. Blondie would probably get a kick out of this whole thing. He almost wishes she and Cass had come with them. God knows it would be less doom and gloom all the time.

 

“Dude. What even is this place. What even.” Now that they’re getting closer to the surviving part of this place, there’s a lot more shit floating around and the architecture gets easier to spot. Tim seems to be too awestruck to remember his anxiety, looking around like a kid in a candy store. “How could this be here this whole time without anyone knowing? Holy shit.”

 

Jason snorts. This kid is gonna lose his mind when he sees the surface.

 

Finally, the water begins to dwindle and the bubble hits pavement. Jason feels like weeping in relief. He dissolves the water around them enough for Tim to scramble up to the streets and lay on his back on the cold gravel.

 

Then, Jason passes out.

 

*

 

_ “You have survived the first trial.”  _

 

“Really? Not even a congratulations?” Jason crosses his arms. Being back at the White Room never fails to put him in a petty mood. “Who are you? Bruce?”

 

_ “I apologize. I forget humans need constant positive reinforcement. I shall keep this in mind on your next obstacle.” _

 

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re sassing me or not, but i feel offended all the same.” He says, “so fuck you.”

 

_ “Foul language is unnecessary. Although it seems to be inevitable when it comes to you, child.” _ Jason gets the distinct impression it’s rolling its eyes.  _ “The end is near.” _

 

“Oh my god, do you really have to say it like that?”

 

_ “I speak only the truth. You are close to your final destination. It is not far from this place.” _

 

Jason sighs, “well, that’s good, I guess. No offense, but I can’t wait to get you out of my head.”

 

_ “None taken. I, too, find myself eager to be myself once again. It pains me to see the state which the land has fallen into.” _

 

“Who are you, anyway?” he asks, “can you tell me now or are you still being all shady?”

 

_ “Haven’t you guessed yet, child?”  _ The voice says softly, the sound carrying like rustling leaves,  _ “I am the soul of this land. I am everything you call this city. I am Gotham.” _

 

Of course. Of course it is. At this point, Jason isn’t even surprised. He’s just rolling with it.

 

_ “The first Earthquake that wrecked this land, it damaged my core. I retreated to the dark deep in an effort to survive. I have been waiting for the Healer foretold in the sacred writings. You are to heal me so I can wake up, and this land may once again bloom.” _

 

“How am I supposed to do that? I mean, of all the people ‘round here, you sure know to pick ‘em. I have no idea how to do this shit.” Jason feels guilt brewing on his chest, growing into something painfully familiar. “I don’t have the best track records with big jobs, you know?”

 

_ “I believe in you, child. Fate does not make mistakes. If it is written, then it will come to pass. This is your Destiny, Jason Todd, and no one else’s.” _

 

These words are strangely comforting, warm against the cold uncertainty of whatever is waiting for him when he wakes up. Jason is tired down to his bones, he knows once he’s out of the White Room and its strange floating sensation all his limbs will be weighting like lead. It just adds to the already insurmountable weight on his shoulders. 

 

The room begins fading as it always does when they’re done talking. It’s the trippiest dismissal he’s ever seen.

 

*

 

Jason wakes up with a start, sitting up.

 

There’s a stinging on his left arm and he looks around, scratching that spot. Bruce is standing stoic a few feet away, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance, Damian at his side. The low light of this place casts them in half shadows, giving everything a gloomy appearance. Right down their alley, Jason figures.

 

At his left, he notices now, Dick is talking, but Jason doesn’t have nearly enough energy and patience to try and decipher what the fuck he’s going on about. Right beside him sits Tim, with a suspiciously pleased with himself.

 

Things begin to fall into place, and Jason narrows his eyes, “did you just shock me?”

 

“Yup.” The kid smirks.

 

“We were trying to wake you up!” Dick adds, hastily, “you passed out and we were getting worried.”

 

Jason rolls his eyes. He stretches, taking stock of all the aches and pains. It’s not as bad as it could be, all in all. Nothing that a week of uninterrupted sleep won’t fix. Still, he has a reputation to maintain, so he glares half-heartedly and says, barely threateningly, “Timothy, you useless pikachu.”

 

“Really?” Tim raises one eyebrow, that’s the best you came up with?”

 

“No.” Dick cuts in, “you two are not doing this now. I’m tired, Bruce is brooding, and we lost contact with Babs.”

 

“Jeez, aren’t you a ball of sunshine today?” Jason mutters, but doesn’t say anything else. It’s jarring to see Dick in a more somber mood; the guy always takes it upon himself  to lighten the air and come up with some optimistic bullshit, even if the Dickhead himself doesn’t totally buy it. Getting to his feet, Jason decides to change the subject, “so, where to now?”

 

“I’d say the giant Lexcorp building is a good place to start,” Bruce says, materialising out of thin air, “it’s always wise to assume Luthor is guilty at first, if possible.”

 

“That’s garbage advice.” Jason frowns, “what happened to  _ innocent until proven guilty _ ?”

 

“That doesn’t apply to Luthor. He is to blame nine out of ten times, therefore, he’s an outlier and should not be taken into account.”

 

“That’s not how it works,” he says hotly, “that’s really not how statistics work, and– oh my god, why am I arguing in favor of Lex Luthor?”

 

“Projecting?” Tim shrugs.

 

Faintly, Jason hears Dick facepalming beside him. He ignores him, pointing at Tim menacingly, “hey, shut it. No criminal rep, no opinion.” Then, turning to the rest of the group, “let’s just go, okay?”

 

He scans the horizon, looking for the Lexcorp building Bruce had pointed out. And sure enough, north of their position stands a giant L-stamped complex. But it’s not a tower like Jason had been imagining. No. That would be too easy. Instead, near the tree line, sits a nuclear plant, crumbling and eroding. Which is just peachy. Nothing like a good dose of radiation after dinner to really get those cancer cells working.

 

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, “B already scanned this place for radiation. It’s pretty low. The reactor inside must be still intact.”

 

“Well, at least I can cross radiation poisoning from my list of things that will likely kill me.”

 

Dick snorts, knocking his shoulder as he passes him, “just start walking, loser.”

 

*

 

Old Town is a strange place. 

 

The rumours had been right in calling it  _ frozen in time _ . The streets and stores and houses, they all look like something straight out of a Victorian picture. Jason can almost see people walking around with colorful dresses and top hats and chariots. Most of everything is destroyed, walls broken down and places where the ground is a step away from collapsing.

 

They walk carefully, trying to avoid most of the damage. Jason kind of wishes Duke was there. The Earth kid is damn good with this shit. He, on the other hand, is mediocre at best. But from what he could tell, the kid was still on a mission with Kate, so. They'll have to make do with Jason.

 

And Damian is still sulking, kind of. He's glued to his father's side, a grimace on his face. It's probably this place. It has the same dead feeling as the Lake, the same sick stench that makes his skin crawl and his stomach churn. It's almost worse than in the water.

 

"How do you think Luthor found this place?" Tim says, sidling up to him, "I mean, even  _ we _ weren't sure how to get here."

 

"There's light, so there's gotta be another entrance," Jason shrugs, "let's be real. If anyone was gonna find it here, it would be Luthor."

 

"You do think he has something to do with the Earthquakes, then." It's not a question, not really.

 

" _ Lex _ Luthor? Nah, don't think so," he answers honestly, "but his old man? Probably. This seems like the kind of shit he'd do."

 

"It would make more sense, age-wise."

 

"Yeah, that Nuclear Plant might not be as old as this place, but I'd bet on the 60's."

 

"Can't be sure from this far, but probably." Tim tilts his head, looking calculating at the approaching building, "I think we could arrive today yet. If we don't stop to sleep, that is."

 

"I had enough sleep, trust me." Jason rolls his eyes, "damn voice keeps talking every damn time."

 

"Sounds rough," he says, sounding as unsympathetic as one possibly could, "but I figure we're gonna have to stop soon. Dick isn't looking too good."

 

"He said he was tired," Jason shakes his head, "we should've known better. it probably translates to I can't barely stay on my feet in Bat-speak."

 

Tim snorts, "nice save. You really didn't want to say dick-speak, did you?"

 

"No, or hear it out loud, so thanks for that, asshole." He crosses his arms, "anyway, should we wait until he inevitably collapses, or force him to sleep?"

 

The kid glances at the trio walking ahead of them, then back at Jason. "Better yet, use the little brother card. If we say you're the one tired, he's not going to complain."

 

"Why do I have to do it?" He frowns, "you talk to him."

 

"You're the one that passed out earlier, it adds credibility," Tim says haughtily, "besides he and B feel like, depressingly guilty about, you know. He's gonna cave easier than the floor of that store over there."

 

Jason sighs; he has a feeling he's the one being manipulated here. But he can't deny the logic in that. "Fine, whatever. But if the Gremlin starts complaining, you're on babysitting duty this time." Without waiting for a reply, Jason speeds up, trying to catch up to the other three, and calls out, "hey, Dickhead! Hold up!"

 

Behind him, he can hear Tim laughing and doing nothing to back him up. Real asshole.

 

*

 

_ "You are close now, child." _ The voice, Gotham, whispers, causing Jason to startle awake. He had been almost asleep, already drifting off to the darkness.  _ "You are in the right path, do not doubt." _

 

"I thought you were done talking to me in real life," Jason drawls, "I think I'd liked it better when you only talk when I sleep."

 

_ "You have been avoiding sleep. That is detrimental to your health." _

 

"Of course I had been avoiding sleep!" He cries out, rolling on his back and quickly looking around. The fire is still on, but the others seemed to be all asleep. "Everytime I go back to that Room and you begin spouting ominous nonsense! I don't need that kind of stress in my life."

 

_ "I apologize if I caused any undue distress, but I intend only to help guide you on this journey. I have been here since the beginning of time, my knowledge is not to small. Although, I am bound to the Rules.” _

 

“Yeah, yeah, you can’t interfere directly, I know.” Jason looks up, it is dark out and he can’t tell if it’s just a starless sky or the ceiling of some rock formation. That’s kinda depressing, he thinks. He’d like to see the stars. “But half the time, whatever you say falls more in the ‘weird’ category than the ‘helpful’ one. And I end up waking up just as tired in the end.”

 

_ “I understand. But it is important you understand the Rules of which you as well are bound to.” _

 

He sighs, dragging a hand across his face. There’s no way he’s going back to sleep now. “Still, I’d like to get one night to myself, you know?”

 

Suddenly, before Gotham can answer him, another voice pipes up, “ _ Bruce,” _ Tim says in a sleepy, drawn out whine, “Jason is being too loud!”

 

There’s only a grunt in response from the man. Jason glares at the sky, too lazy to turn his head, “Bruce,” he mimics mockingly, “Tim is being a little bitch.”

 

“Bruce,” Tim calls, “tell Jason just because he’s hearing voices that doesn’t mean we all have to stay up too.”

 

“Bruce,” Jason huffs, “tell Tim no one is stopping from going the fuck to sleep.”

 

“Father,” this time it’s Damian that speaks, sounding annoyed, “tell these morons that some people would like to actually sleep.”

 

“ _ Bruce _ ,” Tim and Jason speak together, in a strange show of unity that probably won’t happen again.

 

Finally, the man in question stirs, voice low but carrying clearly in the night, “keep it down. Whoever wakes him up will be carrying the supplies bag tomorrow.”

 

It should be said that Bruce had been the one carrying the supplies bag so far, mostly because it is the heaviest bag of their trip and they all had come up with excuses not to carry it.

 

From his spot between Tim and Damian, Dick stirs, rolling to his side and mumbling quietly.

 

They wait with baited breath.

 

He goes still again.

 

A collective sigh of relief, and then, silence. Thank the gods for Dick’s ability to sleep like the dead.

 

Jason closes his eyes; he might as well try and go back to sleep. It looks like Gotham has given up for tonight anyway. He’s once more drifting off when it whispers again,  _ “rest, child. Tomorrow will be a new day.”  _ Jason ignores it, pulling the covers over his head.

 

*

 

It’s still morning, or at least they think it is, it’s hard to tell in this place, when they arrive at the Nuclear Plant.

 

From this close, it looks like what Jason thinks Chernobyl looks like. Decrepit, abandoned and probably haunted. It’s truly a miracle that Gotham didn’t have a radiation disaster. But then again, the rate of Metahumans here is way higher than anywhere else.

 

But the bigger issue right now is: how the hell do they get in?

 

Everything is locked up tight, security is surprisingly still in place, and while grappling past the high walls had been easy, getting inside the facility is proving to be a problem. With the power down and no signal, there is no hacking either.

 

Unless– 

 

“Tim,” Bruce is already talking, “would jump-starting the system override the security codes?”

 

The kid frowns, thinking, “maybe? It’s hard to tell, this tech is way too old to be sure.”

 

“But it there is a chance?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, probably. Like Jason said, this is 60’s technology. And it’s been sitting here for decades.” He shrugs, a glint of determination in his eyes, “it may have been state of the art when it was installed, but it’s still way beneath what we or Oracle use.”

 

“Tt. A yes or no would have been enough answer,” Damian rolls his eyes, “your babbling is tiring, Drake.”

 

“Dami,” Dick, who seems to be a lot chirper after a good night’s sleep, says, ruffling his hair, “be nice. They might be onto something there.”

 

“Seems this is up to you, little bro,” Jason swings an arm over the kid’s shoulders, “what do you say, can you get us in?”

 

Tim shrugs in off, glaring, “of course I can. Who do you take me for? Damian?”

 

“What did you say–”

 

“Boys,” Bruce says warningly, but his lips twitch in what could, maybe, possibly, be a smile, “let’s get to work.”

 

“Right. Jason, I’ll need you to hold the torch over here while I take it apart.”

 

Jason nods, already digging through his own backpack for the thing. Suddenly, his hand finds cold metal. His red helmet had been sitting on the bottom of his bag since they left Wayne Manor. Jason isn’t even sure why, but it felt spiteful to wear it when everyone else had their masks off. Even Bruce left the cowl down for most of the journey. So yeah. Helmetless. He doesn’t think he spent so much time without it since he first put it on. It leaves him feeling awfully bare, awfully raw, awfully vulnerable.

 

“Come  _ on, _ are you trying to build one from scratch?” Tim calls from where he is crouched.

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Jeez, chill out.”

 

Seriously. The things he does for this family. 

 

*

 

Inside, it’s not that much better. 

 

Black mold grows everywhere. Covering the walls, over machinery, sealing doors. It’s disgusting, and Bruce has them all use their air filters. What isn’t infested with mold, is rusting. None of the metal seem to have survived the passing of time, they are all corroded and coppery red. Jason is afraid that the barest touch might send something to the ground.

 

Once, Damian tripped in a loose pipe and the whole thing came down in a cloud of dust and mold. 

 

Clearly, radiation isn’t what’s gonna kill them. Tetanus and lung infection will.

 

But his mind is focused somewhere else. Since they entered the building, there’s a tugging in his gut. Something calls for him from deep down the facility. It’s a strange feeling, and a little frightening, but Jason figures it’s best to embrace it than fight it, so he takes the lead and follows this weird calling through the dark hallways.

 

They walk past the old reactor, where Tim and Bruce spend fifteen minutes running endless tests. But he gets it. They don’t have to voice their concern. It’s on everyone’s mind. It’s a miracle already that this old thing hasn’t cracked with all the small ‘quakes. If another one comes, like Babs predicted, there’s no way it will hold.

 

Jason speeds up his pace.

 

At some point, the tiled hallways give away to bare concrete and then to clay. It’s clear they had been in the middle of expanding the lower levels when something happened that made them stop. Maybe the Original Earthquake, or maybe they realized the land under Gotham is too unstable for something so fragile. 

 

No matter, it feels more like a cave system than a building right now.

 

As the tugging gets stronger, Jason feels a sense of urgency growing inside his bones, like two magnets pulling at each other, stronger the closer they get.

 

They really are almost at the end of the line, Jason realizes.

 

*

 

It’s a dead end.

 

The cave system leads to a solid rock wall, no way through, even as the force pulling him hits an all time high. It wants him to go through it, but unfortunately, it doesn’t come with an instruction manual.

 

“Great. What are we supposed to do, phase though the wall?” Jason throws his hands up in frustration, “hey, you, Gotham, or whatever, now would be a great time for you to start talking!”

 

They all strain to hear, waiting for any sound, even if Jason is the only one that can hear the voice, but it’s to no avail, the distant sound of dislodged debris falling is the only noise echoing off the walls.

 

“What do you think we should do, Jason?” Bruce asks, serious, “it is your prophecy.”

 

“Why do people insist in calling it mine?!” He growls, “I don’t know! It wants me to go past this wall. I think whatever’s behind is it. The heart.”

 

“Maybe you could manipulate the rock?” Tim suggests, knocking on the wall and pressing his ear to it, “actually, I think it’s hollow. There really might be a chamber behind it.”

 

“I. I can try? I’ve never done something this big, though.” Jason bites his lips. The tugging is loud on his ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. He lays his hands flat on the rock, feeling the cold coming off of it and the hard edges. Exhaling, he tries to will it to move. 

 

To his surprise, it obeys easily, as if waiting for him. The stone opens up, creating a doorway into the next chamber. Jason opens his eyes, unsure of when he had even closed them, and tries to peer inside.  _ Holy shit _ , is that the fault line?

 

As suddenly as it opened, it closes again, and Jason startles, taking a step back and looking around him. At his left, Dick is blinking confused at where the door had just been, his hand still raised as if to touch it. “What the hell?”

 

“Don’t look at me,” Jason raises his hands in front of his chest, “I didn’t do anything!”

 

_ “Only the Healer shall cross to the Chamber of the Heart.” _

 

“Oh, so  _ now _ , you’re back?” He crosses his arms, “and does that mean what I think it means?”

 

“Jason, what you’re talking about? Is it the Voice again?” Dick asks, concerned, but Jason waves him off, focusing on Gotham’s words.

 

_ “Indeed. I am afraid this is something you must do alone. Although it might allow your kin once it’s all over.” _

 

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised.” Jason shrugs, turning to his family, “so, Gotham, that’s the voice by the way, says only I can go through the magic door. Stupid magic rules.”

 

“I am not sure if this is a good idea,” Bruce begins, “this is clearly a very unstable area, it could be dangerous–”

 

“B. Trust me, there is no arguing with these guys,” he says, leaning against the rocks, “been there, done that. Never works.”

 

“I still don’t like it–”

 

“Yeah, I’m not too crazy about it, too.” Dick adds, frowning.

 

Tim nods, humming in agreement. Damian, on the other hand, seems to be very focused on his shoes.

 

“Listen, like I said. If it says this is the only way, then there’s nothing we can do.” Jason grimaces, “the sooner I do this, the sooner it’s over and we can go home.”

 

Bruce is about to say something else when Gotham begins speaking again, so Jason holds up a finger to stop him.  _ “It brings me grief to say it, but they are not wrong, child.” _

 

“What do you mean?”

 

_ “Waking the heart, this is the meaning of this second life of yours, but it is not an easy thing. Much energy is required in order to bring me back to Life. It will consume you.” _

 

“I’m going to die.” Jason says slowly, feeling the weight of the vowels on his tongue. It’s not a question, there is nothing lost in translation here. These words are cold on his lips, curling around his bones with icy fingertips and scratching his skin with sharp claws. Jason Todd, the dead Robin. That’s nothing something he can escape, it seems.

 

“What?” Bruce’s voice is cutting like thunder, sizzling the air, “what does that mean?”

 

“Gotham says, if I do this, If I wake the heart,” he speaks in a monotone, feeling strangely numb, “I will die.”

 

“No. Absolutely not,” the man says with certainty, “that’s it. We’re done with this nonsense, we will find another way to prevent the Earthquake or smuggle that reactor out of the city. But this is over, we’re done here.”

 

“B, come one,” Jason shakes his head, “there’s no time for that. Besides, how are we going to stop an Earthquake?”

 

“Jason. B is right, there is no way you’re going through that door,” Dick intervenes, “it’s not worth it.”

 

“It’s not worth it?” He asks, incredulous and a little hysterical, “it might save the whole town, beyond, even. Think of the radioactive cloud that would come up. We gotta stop it before it happens. I have to stop it.”

 

“No,” Bruce speaks again, taking a step forward, “the price is too high.”

 

“Jay,” Tim says, quietly, looking at a point left of Jason’s head, “if you do it, you’re going to die.  _ Again.” _

 

“Yes, Todd,” Damian comes forward, still focusing mostly on his shoes, “that would not do. I don’t want you to go. You are irritating, but you still have much to teach me.”

 

“Hey now, kid, that’s a low blow,” Jason feels like crying, but doesn’t. Instead, he chuckles humorlessly, “come on, guys. We all knew I was living on borrowed time anyway.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you have to die now!” Dick cries out, stepping closer, “Jason, please, we’ll find another way, just step away from the rocks.”

 

To be fair, they never did pay Dick enough credit. The guy is pretty smart when he wants to. “Thanks, you know. For everything,” he smiles crookedly, hoping it looks less sad than it feels, “but no glass cases this time, okay?” 

 

With that, before Dick or Bruce could reach him, Jason opens the door again and falls through. It closes with a quick snap, and the last thing Jason sees is the faces of his family looking in different stages of horror.

 

Fitting, he figures.

 

*

 

“What do I have to do?” Jason asks, “you gotta walk me through it.”

 

_ “There is nothing for me teach you,”  _ Gotham says gently,  _ “this is what you are meant for, Healer. It is the marrow of your bones and the air in your lungs. Listen closely, the knowledge is in your blood.” _

 

He barks a laugh. After everything, the convoluted manner of speech is almost comforting. Gotham has been speaking to him for weeks now, it feels like a part of him, a constant in this whirlwind he found himself in. There’s a lump choking his throat, making it hard for him to breathe, but Jason swallows around it, ignores the rabbit pulse of his heart, “I freaking hate you, you asshole.”

 

_ “You do not, so I shall understand this is another of your figures of speech. Then, I freaking hate you as well, Jason Todd.”  _

 

The voice is suddenly a lot closer, a lot more tangible than ever before. It still has an ethereal lilt to it, but he’s never heard it so real before. Jason looks around the cave, and the air is knocked out of him. “Bruce?” The man stands in front of him, but he’s not wearing the torn Batman suit. Instead, a dress shirt and suit pants replace it. Jason’s never seen him wearing it, in fact, he’s never seen anyone wearing it his whole life. They’re clothes people of old, from before the Original ‘Quake, would wear. In the middle of the dusty cave, it’s a jarring contrast. “B, what the fuck?”

 

The man frowns apologetic,  _ “I am sorry, child. I am not your father.”  _ Oh. The voice is unmistakable.  _ “I merely chose this form because I assumed it would bring you comfort in this time. Was I mistaken?” _

 

Jason wants to scream. He wants to cry a little bit, too. It hits him then, that he is alone. Jason is going to die here, in this forgotten cave, and alone. He doesn’t want to die alone again. This is not. This isn’t.  _ It’s not how it was supposed to be.  _ He knows there’s no other way, and he knows the illusion is an empty comfort, but he’s scared and lonely and  _ dying.  _ “Yeah, no. No, it’s. It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it. Haven’t seen you with any sort of body, is all.”

 

_ “This close to the heart, I am stronger.”  _ Gotham says,  _ “it is almost over, now, child.” _

 

“Will it hurt?” He can’t help asking, “I mean, waking the heart and shit.”

 

_ “Only for a second,”  _ it rests a hand on his shoulders, cold and light,  _ “and then there will be nothing. There will be peace.” _

 

Peace. Yeah, that sounds good. Jason hasn’t known peace for a long time, ever since coming back. Maybe it is okay. He just has to do this, and then he can rest, lay down the arms. He’s been so tired lately. This world, it’s exhausting.

 

“Yeah, okay.” Jason smiles, walking closer to the fault line. The heat rises as he approaches it, and he can almost feel the ground shifting beneath his feet, molten lava bubbling just beneath the surface. It calls to him, the spiral. It sings a gentle melody, a lullabye. It tells him to kneel in the eye of the spiral, by the crack on the floor, and his skin burns hot along the rock. A deep rumble echoes across the cave.

 

_ This is it _ , he thinks. Jason needs to connect with the Earth, become one with the land, to mend the fault line. It will take everything to do it. He will die, so the others can live. They will be able to finally rebuild the city. No more earthquakes, no more gang wars, no more wastelands. No man’s land ends today. It ends with Jason. Gotham was right, there’s peace in that.

 

_ “It is time, child. Your destiny is waiting for you.” _

 

It doesn’t mean he’s no longer scared. Dying is scary in any circumstance. He still wishes he wasn’t alone, it reminds him too much of before. “Hey, can I-- will you stay with me? While I do it? Until I-- I don’t really wanna die alone, you know?”

 

Gotham, still wearing Bruce’s face, smiles serenely, kneeling beside him.  _ “Of course. I will stay until the end. Close your eyes, listen to my song. It will be over soon.” _

 

Jason nods, hands shaking as he places them on either side of the crack. It doesn’t burn his skin, and he takes a deep breath. It’s time. He searches for the connection between his soul and the Earth under his palms, and  _ pulls. _

 

In the beginning, it’s easy. The surge of power leaves him dizzy, vision spinning, but soon he has to pour himself in the line to make the land move an inch. It makes his head hurt as if it’s splitting itself in two, pain quickly expanding down every bone on his body. Jason is burning up from the inside out.

 

_ “Don’t fight it, child. Find my song, listen to it, and let it be. Listen to my lullabye. I have been singing it since before time itself, just for you.” _

 

A whisper of a song echoes through the haze, and Jason latches onto it, wraps it around himself until all he can feel is the cool comfort of the music. He’s beginning to drift off, darkness is slowly claiming him, and Jason welcomes it.

 

_ “It is done.” _

 

*

 

Jason is floating.

 

There is nothing, and time has no meaning at all.

 

There is the dark, and there is peace.

 

Jason is free.

 

Until- 

 

He’s being pulled away from the darkness-

 

Suddenly, there is light.

 

*

 

Jason Todd died for the second time in the middle of a dusty cave, at the epicenter of the Original Earthquake.

 

On that same day, he is resurrected again.

 

*

 

He wakes up with a desperate gasp for air. It feels as if he’s been slammed back into his body.  Jason sits up with jerky movements, unused to the pull of gravity and the feeling of solid ground beneath him. He breathes, swallowing dust and smoke.

 

Then, arms are thrown around him, and he’s being squeezed into a crushing hug. Other pairs of limbs join the first.

 

“I can’t believe it, oh my god,” Dick sobs, “you’re alive, Jay,  _ you’re alive!” _

 

“You were dead,” Tim adds, quietly, still not letting go, “you were dead. I know ‘cause I checked. You were dead. Bruce carried your corpse.  _ You were dead. _ ”

 

Damian says nothing, squeezing tighter for a second before backing away, sleeves coming up to his eyes. It’s an unspoken rule to pretend no one saw the tears.

 

Dick steps back unsteadily, as if afraid Jason might crumble if he gets too far. Tim still clings to him, even as he sways trying to get to his feet. “I-- how am I still here? _ Damn _ , that hurt like a motherfucker.”

 

“I have no idea,” his brother laughs wetly, “but I’m not questioning miracles. Shit, where’s Bruce? He’s still outside, right? I’ll go get him.” He dashes out of the cave, footsteps too loud in the silent place.

 

It makes Jason realize that they’re no longer in the fault line chamber, but near the entrance of the underground system instead. Somehow, Bruce and the others had made the track back while he had been dead. A jolt of panic shoots through his veins, “did I do it? Did I fix it?”

 

“Yes,” Damian says, clearing his throat and awkwardly hovering by his side, “there is no fault line anymore. You have actually succeeded, Todd.”

 

“Holy  _ shit _ .”

 

The arms around his middle tighten. “Jay, you  _ died.  _ Again.”

 

“I know, Timmy.” Jason says softly, swallowing down his own shock. There will be time for panic later, perhaps when there isn’t two teenagers panicking themselves. He pats his head, “but I’m back.  _ Again _ . Third time’s the charm, right?”

 

The kid sniffles, but chuckles weakly. “You’re an asshole.” Tim finally lets go, standing worriedly beside Damian, “we honestly thought you were gone. Do that again and I’ll bring you back myself, just to kill you.”

 

“Sure, deal.” He grins, “now, how about we get the hell out of dodge?”

 

Tim is about to answer, but a voice cuts in, hoarse and disbelieving, “ _ Jason? _ ”

 

Bruce stands by the cave’s entrance, frozen in the spot. He looks rattled and worse for wear, and Jason thinks he’s never seen him look so tired. “Hey, B. What did I miss?”

 

There’s no reply. Bruce marches inside, walking right up to Jason with whatever emotion hid by the cowl, and pulls him a tight hug. “No more dying,” he says, “I swear to the gods, Jason, if you die  _ one more time. _ ”

 

“Why people keep telling me that?” He laughs nervously. He’s not used to this. When he came back the first time, it was to sickening green waters and Talia’s terrified face. Then, there was only running from Ras and his own Pit-fueled rage. Now, to have people looking at him and not immediately backing away in fear? To have them missing and crying over him? It’s a little surreal, and it’s a little overwhelming. “Honestly, at this point, you people still believe it’s gonna stick?”

 

“What I cannot believe is how this is an actual issue.” Bruce pulls back, holding him by the shoulders and looking him over, searching for any lingering wounds, and from this close Jason can see the tear tracks mixing with dirt and dust and grime. “But I’m glad we’re still not out of miracles.”

 

The sincerity behind the words are making it hard for Jason to keep it together, he feels a lump on his throat once again and his chest is constricting, lungs pressed against his ribcage. He wants to not think about it, not dwell on the  _ hows  _ and  _ whys _ , because it’s all too much, too soon. He needs to go outside and see the sky, feel the sun warming his skin. 

 

He needs proof he’s truly alive again.

 

“Can we go now, please?” He asks, already walking to the exit, aching for the red-and-yellow sunlight.

 

“Yes, let’s go home.” Bruce says, and finally,  _ they do. _

 

*

 

Jason is back in the White Room. He feels his heart sink, dread pooling at the pit of his stomach. If he’s back here, does that mean it’s not over yet?

 

_ “Do not worry, child. Your part in this is over.”  _  Gotham says, once again only a voice echoing in a half-real room,  _ “you have fulfilled the prophecy. Your story is no longer woven with mine.” _

 

“I’m free?” Jason asks incredulously, “but how am I still alive? I thought, well, you said it would kill me.”

 

_ “And it did. Your heart stood still for hours. Your soul was no longer in your body for that time.” _

 

“But if I did die, what brought me back?” A chill runs down his spine. His history with resurrections isn’t exactly good, the Lazarus Pit still gives him green-tinted nightmares too often. 

 

_ “I did.” _

 

“What, but why?”

 

_ “The prophecy foresaw your death, and yet it never mentions whatever comes next. I am free to choose.”  _ Gotham says, and Jason has a feeling that if it had a body, it would be shrugging right now,  _ “you have awaken and healed me. I thrive because of you. It was only fair of me to help you in return. But I must warn you, all magic comes with a price. Intertwining your soul back into your flesh, it called for great energy. The gifts you brought with you unwillingly from the damned waters of the Lazarus Pit, they had to be sacrificed.” _

 

Jason grins, relaxing, “that’s a cheap price, I think. ‘s not like I was properly using them anyway. But you know, I think you actually like me. I grew on you, didn’t I?”

 

_ “Indeed. Like mold.” _

 

“Hey!” He laughs. The bastard is actually getting a sense of humor now. What even. “You were the one stuck in my head for weeks.”

 

_ “That is true, and I thank you, Jason Todd. I cannot stay long in this plane, but I wished to thank you for your actions.” _

 

“It’s cool, it’s not like I didn’t have anything in it for me. I am, after all, one of the fuckers that live here.”

 

_ “Still. Thank you, may your life be long and blessed. Farewell, child.” _

 

“You take care of yourself, hear me? No more giant fault lines.” Jason tries to sound stern, but the truth is, in some way, he’s gonna miss the odd voice in his head. It’s been there for days, and he had just started getting used to it. His brain feels kinda empty, silent, without it.

 

The last thing Jason hears is the clear, breezy sound he’s taken to associate with its laughter.

 

*

 

He wakes up in his room at the Manor. On his windowsill, a single robin sings cheerfully at him, tilting its head, for a minute, before flying away.

 

“Goodbye to you too, buddy,” Jason smiles to himself, lingering at the window until he hears the beginnings of the usual breakfast noises downstairs. 

 

There are still a lot of things to do. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither will be Gotham. They have to figure out what to do with the nuclear reactor underground and they have to look into Luthor’s involvement. The gang wars need to be stopped, and buildings need to be rebuilt.

 

Jason stretches, feeling his body aching and sore. It’s a welcome feeling, reminding him he’s undeniably alive, irrefutably real. He’s flesh and bone and blood. 

 

Wonderfully, painfully human. 

 

Time drags on, and Jason  _ lives. _

**Author's Note:**

> hey, you made it to the end? Maybe consider leaving some comments or a kudo?
> 
> or you can come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://wearealltalesintheend.tumblr.com/).
> 
> and hey? thanks


End file.
